


They can't know

by BeachSpirit



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A little smutty, Crack, Developing Relationship, Hannigram - Freeform, I suck at smut, Kinda Cracky, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, No this is not a super serious fic, Not Beta Read, Talks about crime scenes, crime scene mentioned, not major smut though, not really fluffy though, please laugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:37:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeachSpirit/pseuds/BeachSpirit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Hannibal are seeing each other and Will doesn't want anyone to know. </p><p>Will is surprised to see Hannibal in a meeting at the FBI - and it feels especially awkward as it's after their first romantic encounter *wink wink*. Of course, Will gets awkward and uncomfortable and is pretty sure that someone can read it all over him. </p><p>Disclaimer: All characters Thomas Harris / NBC and don't belong to me this is just some fun</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I tried this. Not beta read so sorry if you spot anything don't hesitate to let me know :)  
> I'm reeeeaaaally new to fanfic so comments and therefore constructive criticism are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> Also I've just learned how to alter chapters eg 2/3. So yay for not making everything look like a oneshot anymore!

"You know why you're all here," Jack sighs, thumbing through some crime scene photographs. "As you know, the killer has struck again. But he's changed up the style. I wanted your perspectives."

"Well, the main points of trauma on the body are pretty much the same," Beverly Katz says, pointing at a picture with her pen. "Just the instrument used varies from the previous murders." 

"Maybe he was making use of whatever was to hand," Price suggests, holding up a photograph up to the light to get a better look. 

"Yeah, this murder involves more blunt objects," Zeller adds. "Maybe he just didn't have his knives handy."

"No," Will sighs. "He's making an example. The victim struggled more - the lacerations on his wrists show that he was tied. Bludgeoning meant that death was more total, if that makes sense. The killer lost some control - the objects attached to the victims body, however, show an element of forethought. The idea behind this murder has been cultivating in the killers mind for weeks. It just grew organically at the crime scene." 

Jack nods and starts to speak again. The door opens, and Jack looks up. 

"Doctor Lecter," Jack says with a bright smile - well, as bright as Jack's smiles can be. "Take a seat." 

"I apologise for my lateness," Hannibal says. "Terribly rude of me, but there was an accident on the freeway." 

"Not at all," Jack says. "We're just getting started.

Hannibal smiles, and slips into the seat behind Will. 

Will feels his ears pinking as Hannibal's gaze seems to burn holes in the back of his head - the same view that Hannibal had had for much of last night. 

Jack starts up again, but Will can't concentrate on his words. His mind is on last night, before he slipped out of Hannibal's house before he was even awake. 

* 

The therapy session: At the end, as normal, Hannibal walked Will to the door.

"I'll see you next week," Hannibal said, reaching for the door handle. 

Will couldn't hold it any longer. He lunged for the doctor, Will held Hannibal's face in his hands as he needily pressed their lips together.  
For a moment, the doctor doesn't move. Then, he succumbs, his elegant, careful hands sliding up Wills back and waist.

Will nudged the tip of his tongue against Hannibal's lips, asking permission. The doctor opened his mouth and Will's tongue slid in. Will moaned into Hannibal's mouth as he gripped his stiffly gelled hair. 

"Do you - do you want to - ah -" Will stammered breathlessly, though he already knew the answer. 

Hannibal's dark eyes burned with something Will took a minute to recognise - lust, he thought in surprise. Hannibal placed a hand on the back of Will's neck, his lips ghosting down Will's jaw, his neck, to his collar bone. Will gasped, tangling his hands in Hannibal's hair and fumbling with the mans expensive shirt buttons. He needed him. Now. 

They stumbled up the stairs, Will going backwards, pressed against the wall as the kisses became harsher, rougher, needier until eventually they crashed through the heavy door of Hannibal's bedroom and collapsed onto the expensive bedsheets. 

*

The same bed sheets that Will had gripped around his hands as he panted his sort-of-psychiatrists name as the man was on top of him. 

And now - now, he was behind him in a professional meeting acting as though nothing was amiss. 

Will shuffles uncomfortably, failing to understand how Jack couldn't sense the change in atmosphere. No, of course Jack Crawford was ploughing ahead as normal. 

Zeller and Price continued to enthusiastically chip in with what Will only recognised as "the science", his mind currently being preoccupied with the sole of an Italian leather shoe pressing lightly into the back of his chair, applying pressure to the small of his back. 

Will clenches his jaw at the sensation and exhales slowly through his nose. God, he couldn't take much more of this. He swallows thickly and realises that his face has been glazed over for several minutes. 

"Will?" 

"Oh - huh?" Will stutters, dragged from his thoughts. 

"Your opinion," Jack clarifies, with a frown. "On the contusions at the base of the skull." 

"Oh, right um," Will begins, launching into his interpretations once more, will much less fluidity and far more stammering. 

During the discussion, Jack stops to ask for Dr Lecter's opinion. 

"So Will," Jack says. "You think this killer has delusions about his or her own status?" 

"Yes," Will nods, avoiding Hannibal's gaze. 

"Dr Lecter," Jack turns to Hannibal. "What are your views?" 

Hannibal begins discussing the possibilities of various personality disorders which might have contributed to the murderers actions.

Will puts on his best "attentive listener" face that he often wears when one of his students asks a particularly tedious question. 

Dr Lecter, however, was anything but tedious. As Will slipped into the realm of genuine interest, Hannibal senses his change in demeanour and turns to look at him. Jack was busy examining a photograph closely when Hannibal and Will lock eyes for the first time...since. 

Will'a breath hitches in his throat and he turns slightly away, willing himself not to redden. 

It's at that unfortunate moment that Beverley Katz happened to be watching Dr Lecter's explanation. Her eyes rove between Will and Hannibal, taking in Will's palpable mortification and the glint in Hannibal's dark eyes. Bev's own eyes widen as she tries not to broadcast any signs of her current thoughts to Crawford, Zeller and Price, who are far too deep in discussion to notice. 

After Jack had dismissed them, Zeller and Price bolt back to the lab to seek fresh ideas from the evidence, some clue that was eluding them. Jack goes back to his office, the opposite direction to Hannibal, who goes to the elevators to head back to his car. 

Will Graham, however, was headed to the file room with his head down. 

"Will," Bev hisses, scurrying after him. He hadn't noticed. 

"Will!" she says, louder, and he turns to her. She gives him a gentle shove into the wall. "Oh my GOD, Will!" 

"I don't kno-" Will begins, panicked. But of course, Will Graham knows what the next words out of Katz's mouth are going to be. 

"You slept with Dr Lecter?!" Bev gasps, eyes goggling at the news. 

"Could you keep it down!" it was Will's turn to hiss, as he takes Bev's arm and pulls her into his office, shutting the door behind them. What if someone had heard them?

"I can't - I just - Woah, Graham, I never had you down as the office romance type," Bev grins impishly. 

"Neither did I," Will scowls. He sighs and folds his arms, leaning against his desk, bristling with discomfort. "It just kind of...happened." 

"I'll bet," Bev is almost beside herself. "Good for you!" 

Will rubs his arm. Bev's good-natured punch actually hurt. 

"So," Bev says. "Who made the first move to climb into the other guys pants?" 

Will does his best not to retch at the overwhelming wave of expected discomfort washing over him. 

"Can we not -" he gulps, squirming. 

"Fine," Bev rolls her eyes. "We are both adults you know, discussing sex lives is something we grown ups generally like to do." 

Will doesn't answer. Discussing anything was not something he enjoyed at any age. 

Bev wishes she could stay longer, make Will more comfortable and talk to him more. She's no gossip - Will has to confide in someone who isn't canine. Somehow, Bev suspects that Will's dogs won't quite grasp romance. She checks her watch and tuts. She has to be in autopsy in twenty minutes. 

"Listen, I gotta go," she sighs. 

"Yeah, I'll see you later," Will mumbles, avoiding her eyes and planning to make his desk a barrier between them. 

"Will," she says gently, placing her hand on his shoulder before he can move, so he looks up in surprise. "I'm not going to judge how ethical or unethical all of this is, nor am I going to drag every sordid detail out of you. I'm your friend, Will, and I don't want you to get hurt. You can always talk to me, tell me anything, and I swear I'll take it to the grave." 

"Thanks, Bev," Will is genuinely touched. His eyes flit to meet hers for a brief second, then drop again. 

She smiles, and ducks out of his office, leaving Will alone to nervously stew in the knowledge that his romantic life isn't so secret anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will hasn't seen Hannibal since the meeting, until he turns up out of the blue. Will decides that they need to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is basically a dash of fluff and then a loose plot held together by chunks of sort-of-smut, which I can't write so I just gloss over it. Hope you like it anyways :)

It was early: the air still crisp and the overnight frost hadn't yet thawed. 

Will Graham stands at the edge of the crime scene, shaking his head. 

"I don't know, though," he sighs to Jack Crawford, who is surveying the scene with a scowl. "Something doesn't add up." 

"No sign of a struggle," Bev appears at Will's side. "There aren't any defensive wounds to the hands or forearms. I'll run the usual tests, but I doubt we'll find any tissue under her fingernails."

"Not like the other victims?" Jack asks. 

"No, the others all tried to defend themselves," Will states, pale eyes fixed on the bloody, horrific scene in front of him. "This girl didn't know what hit her." 

Will isn't listening to Jack as a sleek dark grey car pulls into the nearby parking lot. Not again. 

Hannibal Lecter gracefully exits his expensive foreign car, closing the door behind him with a gentle thunk. He straightens his coat collar as he locks eyes with Will. 

Will isn't impressed. After Hannibal's little appearing act at Jack's meeting the other day, he'd spent 90% of his time at the office leaving only to feed his dogs and let them in and out. He hadn't yet had another unofficial psychiatry session. 

Will bristles with annoyance as the doctor approaches them, ignoring Bev's slightly concerned stare. 

"Should we issue a warning to the community? Is the pattern clear enough - Will, are you listening?" 

"Of course I am," Will clicks back into focus, glaring at the Agent. It's such a rare occurrence to actually get eye contact that Jack is taken aback. 

"Liaise with the local PD, get a statement out by this evening," Will snaps, turning on his heel and leaving to allegedly ask Brian and Jimmy some questions. 

He doesn't notice Hannibal finish his conversation with Jack, or the psychiatrist approach him. Will starts when Hannibal murmurs in his ear. 

"Feeling cranky, today, Will?" he breathes. 

** 

Hannibal fights the urge to lick his lower lip when Will's pale eyes flash heatedly. 

"No, Doctor Lecter, I'm fine, thank you," he growls quietly, sarcastically. 

"You don't seem it," Hannibal muses, which promises to infuriate Will more. Really, it was an unexpected treat to have such a touchy Will present today. 

Will pointedly ignores him and looks through some papers. 

"If I remember correctly," Hannibal measures his words carefully. "I'd say that you were the one that should have called me." 

Will's head whipped up as if he'd been electrocuted. 

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"Traditionally, I believe that as the instigator it is you responsibility to contact me," Hannibal adds passively. 

"That's never been us," Will mutters. 

Hannibal's lips quirk. 

"No," he nods. "I suppose you're right." 

Will glances at him nervously. 

"I think, that we, oh, God.." Will sighs. "I think we need to talk, to - " 

Jack's shout breaks the moment. 

"Will!" Jack bellows. "Price found something, come take a look." 

Jack is blissfully unaware of the daggers Beverley is glaring at him.

" - to talk. Later," Will sighs, and leaves Hannibal standing alone by the fence. 

** 

Will should really have expected the knock on his door that night. 

"Good evening, Will," Hannibal smiles. "May I come in?" 

Will holds the door open and steps aside in lieu of an answer. Hannibal slides past him. 

"So, um," Will mumbles. " I think -" 

"-that we 'need to talk', yes, I believe you have already made that perfectly clear," Hannibal says, gingerly sitting on Will's dog-hair covered couch. 

"Yeah," Will exhales slowly. "I just - it's complicated." 

"How so?" Hannibal tilts his head to the side. 

"Oh, y'know, how we work together, and I'm mentally unstable and you're my psychiatrist -" 

"-not officially," Hannibal smirks. 

"I'm sure Jack would see it that way," Will sighs. He slides into a kitchen chair and massages his temples. 

"Is that what this is about," Hannibal raises his eyebrows slightly. "Jack?" 

"No, I just - yeah," Will mutters. "Sort of. And everyone else, and there's your professional reputation to think of -" 

"-and yours," Hannibal adds. 

Will snorts. 

"Oh, yes, my reputation is very precious to me." 

"You are well respected in your field." 

"And known as the team's obligatory weirdo and Jack's pet." 

"If you think of yourself as Jack's pet, then why are you so concerned with his opinion of you?" Hannibal asks. 

Will stares blankly into space. Hannibal watches him expectantly, but he doesn't move. With a soft sigh, Hannibal rises, brushing the dog hair that he can off his suit. 

"Well, it is getting late," Hannibal says, heading for the door. "I won't keep you. Goodnight, dear Will." 

As his hand touches the door handle he is uncharacteristically startled as Will shoves him roughly against the closed the door. Will crowds him, crushing his lips against Hannibal's until they are lightheaded. 

Will pulls away, breathing hard. 

"Don't go," he begs, breathing hard, his blue eyes staring into Hannibal's dark ones. Will's right hand is clutching the arm of Hannibal's jacket, the other at his shirt collar. 

For a beat, they are both utterly still. 

Hannibal lifts his hands to cup Will's face and presses their lips together languidly. One hand tangles in Will's dark curls, the other at his neck, his shoulder, his jaw. 

Will starts kissing with more urgency, pulling Hannibal closer to him so they are pressed together. With steady hands, he undoes the buttons on Hannibal's jacket and the top buttons of his shirt. 

For once, Hannibal doesn't care if his tie gets wrinkled as Will pulls on it, dragging a more than willing Hannibal upstairs. 

** 

"Say it!"

"Will, I -" 

"Say it!" 

"I need to-" 

"Say it!" 

"Please, Will!" 

** 

Hannibal lies awake, staring at the ceiling. His left arm is draped over Will. The younger man's curls brush against Hannibal's jaw as Will shifts in his sleep. A while later, Will's breathing gets lighter, shallower. Hannibal knows that he is awake. 

"I still don't want to tell Jack," Will says, his voice muffled against Hannibal's shoulder. 

"I agree," Hannibal says, frowning slightly at the thought as he traces patterns with his fingertips in the space between Will's shoulder blades. "I think that's for the best."

"Bev knows." 

"Ah yes, Miss Katz." 

"She won't say anything." 

"Mm." 

"She won't," Will sighs. "She knows that I want to keep it quiet." 

"I believe you." 

Will nuzzles Hannibal's neck and tightens his arms around him. With a contented sigh, he closes his eyes. Beside him, Hannibal drifts off to sleep.

Will, however, stays awake for a long time. He was already viewed as enough of a nutcase by his colleagues and probably most of his students without them knowing that he'd jumped into bed with his psychiatrist. Imagining Jack's impending fury gave Will a headache. 

Will sighs again, and wills sleep to come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Will is dragged in for a meeting, Jack and Will have a little chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter (I think), it's kind of like a mini chapter that was floating around my mind. Hope you enjoy!

"Will."

Will mumbles into the pillow and, ignoring the voice calling him, buries deeper into the thousand-thread count sheets that probably cost more than his actual bed. 

"Will." 

"What?" a whine creeps into Will's voice. He pulls the sheets tighter around him. It's the kind of morning where he just doesn't want to get up. Especially from here, from Hannibal's warm bed. He had been disappointed to wake to find that Hannibal had already gotten up. 

"You have a missed call," Hannibal says, gently placing Will's phone next to his face on the pillow. "I must have missed it when I was in the shower." 

Will cracks an eye open to see that Hannibal is peering down at him with an amused smile. Will sighs and props himself up on an elbow and glances at his phone. It's 6:38 AM. He has a missed call and a voicemail. 

"It's Jack," he sighs. "He's left me a voicemail, too. Lucky me." 

Will listens to it whilst he watches Hannibal get dressed, smiling when he spots Hannibal watching him in the mirror. 

"Well?" Hannibal asks as he shrugs into his jacket and straightens his tie. 

"They're going over autopsy findings this morning. He wants me there." 

"You'd better get dressed if you plan to be there on time," Hannibal sighs. 

Will swings his legs out of bed, stands and wraps his arms around Hannibal's neck. The gesture screams I'm sorry. 

"It's a good thing I've left some stuff here, huh?" Will grins, pulling the other man down for a kiss. 

"It's a good thing that I've finally convinced you to invest in some decent clothing," Hannibal corrects him, unhooking Will's arms from around his neck and passing Will a navy blazer and pants from the wardrobe. 

"How would I manage without you," Will grins, grabbing some more clothes and starting to get dressed. 

"I doubt that you would when it comes to the wardrobe. I fear that you would drown in an sea of plaid." 

** 

Hannibal takes his time clearing up after his solitary breakfast. Ten minutes after messaging Jack to confirm that he'd be there, Will was bounding down the stairs and out of the door. Hannibal found himself disappointed at Will's absence at breakfast. Watching Will nervously pick at the unfamiliar dishes was just too entertaining. 

Still, there is an appalling amount of leftovers. It was criminal to do that to the food.

** 

Meanwhile, a tired Will arrives at the meeting room that Jack has booked. A crowd of sleepy forensic staff are clustered outside, clutching coffee cups and shaking from caffeine overload. Zeller and Price are the only ones that seem awake, chatting animatedly. Bev looks up as she spots Will approaching. She breaks away from the main group to chat to him, miming a whistle. 

"Looking good, Graham," she says. 

"Don't I always?" Will jokes, draining his coffee. 

"Today you're looking sharp," Bev smiles, running a hand up his sleeve. Will tenses for minute, then relaxes. "I mean, it's like that jacket was made for you." 

"It was," Will says. "I do visit a tailor sometimes." 

"Since when?" 

"Since now." 

Bev raises her eyebrows but doesn't press him. 

"Alright team," Jack shouts as he arrives. "Go in and let's get started." 

**

The meeting is over surprisingly quickly. As everyone shuffles out, Jack holds Will back. 

"Will, can I have a word," he says, a little awkwardly. 

"Uh, sure," Will replies, waving Brian, Jimmy and Bev to go on without him. He told Bev that he'd catch them up.

"This isn't an easy subject to discuss," Jack says, not looking Will in the eye. He sighs tiredly. "Please, sit down." 

Will sits stiffly; a cold, heavy feeling is spreading throughout his body. His mouth goes dry and his limbs feel as though they are full of lead. Jack is studying him with a carefully detached gaze. 

"I'm going to be blunt with you, Will," Jack says slowly. "Let's cut the crap."

"Alright," Will stammers, his mouth feeling as though it was full of cotton. 

"Are you seeing Beverley Katz?" 

All Will can do is stare at Jack for a minute, stunned into silence. 

"Wait - what?" he splutters, too shocked to be as mortified as he should be. 

"Beverley Katz," Jack says emphatically. "Are you romantically involved with her?" 

"Jesus, Jack - no!" Will says loudly. 

Jack has the decency to redden slightly. 

"You seem very friendly," Jack tries a new tactic. 

"Yes, because we're friends," Will can't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Not because I'm sleeping with her!" 

Inappropriately, Will has the urge to burst out laughing. He swallows it. 

"I'm sorry if I've jumped to the wrong conclusions," Jack says quietly. 

"It's fine," Will shakes his head, laughter threatening to escape again. He ducks his head to disguise the fact. 

"I just don't want anything to jeopardise the case," Jack explains, measuring Will's reaction. "As you can imagine, the profiler sleeping with a member of the forensics team might cause problems." 

"But it won't," Will states with a nervous laugh, the urge to laugh fading quickly. "Because it's not happening." 

"All right," Jack nods. "I'll see you later, Will. I'm sorry to have gotten it wrong."

Will nods once, understanding that he is being dismissed, and rises out of his chair. He can't help shaking his head in disbelief in the corridor. 

Bev is alone in her lab when Will arrives. He knocks once and enters when Bev waves him in. Will closes the door behind him. 

"What did Jack want?" she asks, scanning a report and holding out a packet of chocolates to Will. 

"Should we be eating these in here?" he asks as he unwraps one, partially out of interest but mainly to change the subject. 

"Nope," Bev grins. "But there's nothing going on in here, so..." 

Will smiles as Bev grabs another. 

"So what did Jack want?" she repeats, still poring over the report. 

Will pauses for a second. He is glad that the lab is empty except for them. 

"To know if we were sleeping together," he states evenly in a quiet voice. 

The second Bev's eyes meet Will's they both burst out laughing. The sound of his own laughter startles Will. 

"Oh - my - GOD," Bev splutters, a tear of laughter rolling down her face. "Could he have got it more wrong if he'd tried?" 

"That's what I thought," Will says, ruffling his hair with asmall unsure chuckle. "Poor, misguided Jack." 

"More like poor, misguided Beverley," Bev chokes. "Like I could be any less your type." 

Will smirks at her.

"I wouldn't say I have a type -" 

"Yeah, and I'm so similar to your classy European boyfriend." 

"Fair point," Will laughs. It was so easy to talk to Bev now.

"Come on," Bev grins, tossing the long forgotten report aside. "Coffee. I'm buying." 

Will grins back and follows her out. 

As they pass Jack's office Will tries - and fails - to keep a straight face as Bev makes a point of smiling widely and linking her arm through his. Will laughs easily as they head for a much needed mid-morning coffee.


	4. Déjà Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal get rudely interrupted by a phone call from Jack, but Hannibal's not going to give up that easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter had no suggestion of smut, this one has more. Thank you for reading and kudos-ing and commenting and even subscribing and stuff. That makes me ridiculously happy - I love you and every person that reads my weird imaginings !

Will's shoulders press into the mountain of soft, plump pillows beneath him. His hands grip and claw at the thick cream sheets as his legs wrap tightly around Hannibal's waist. Will's hair is flayed on the pillow, giving him a halo of dark curls framing his face which is tilted back - eyes closed, lips parted in bliss. 

Hannibal's hands hold the back of Will's thighs, pressing him closer to him. 

A shrill rings cuts the atmosphere. 

"No," Will moans, as Hannibal falters. "Don't ans- no, leave it!" 

Hannibal ignores Will, reaching for the nightstand and answers his phone. The screen glows harshly in the velvety, plush comfort of Hannibal's darkened bedroom. 

"Jack," he says. 

Will huffs in frustration and tries to buck up against Hannibal, who just grips his legs tighter to keep him still. 

"Yes - I see, yes," Hannibal ignores Will's squirming underneath him. "Of course, Jack... Will isn't answering him phone -? No, I'm afraid that I am not aware if he has plans tonight." 

Hannibal's mouth quirks as he catches Will's wicked grin. 

"I will contact him. I have the address," Hannibal continues. "As soon as possible. See you there." 

Hannibal hangs up. 

"We have to go don't we?" Will sighs, the heat of the moment gone. 

"I'm afraid so." 

**  
Shortly afterwards, Hannibal and Will arrive at the crime scene. Will apologises for not being able to take Jack's call. 

"I'm sorry, I must have forgotten to charge it," Will lies. He feels a blush creeping up his neck when he imagines his phone buzzing with Jack's call, in the pocket of his pants that had been carelessly cast aside somewhere between halfway up Hannibal's stairs and his bedroom. 

Jack scowls, and warns him not to do it again. Will blinks incredulously when Jack thanks Hannibal for waking Will up and giving him a ride to the crime scene. Hannibal smiles and calmly engages in polite conversation as if he had not been screwing the profiler when Jack called. 

Will goes towards the body, where the science team are gathered. 

"Hope we didn't disturb your evening plans too much," Zeller sighs as Will approaches. "I had to cancel my plans, myself." 

"Yeah, your plans with a twelve pack of beer and DVD box sets," Price scoffs, peering at bruising on the corpse. 

"No, I was just in bed," Will says, crouching down and frowning at a confusing wound pattern. 

"Oh yeah?" Bev's tone is light, but Will scowls when he spots her smirk at his slight blush. With dismay he notice that his bottom shirt buttons are fastened wrong. 

He sniffs indignantly and goes to examine the blood splatter. Faintly, he hears Jack's call to clear the scene for him. 

**

Right now, Will should really be paying more attention to the crime scene stretched out nearby, glowing softly in the rising sun. Will has already told Jack what he sees, and the science team are making sure that Will's theory fits with the forensics. 

Will, however, is not paying any attention to them. He is standing with Jack and Hannibal, around twenty feet away from the main team. As usual, Hannibal is describing the psychological conditions that the killer may be suffering from, that would support Will's theory, to an attentive Jack. 

Will doesn't hear a word that comes out of his mouth. He's far too busy absorbing the perfect planes of Hannibal's face and the way that the sunrise dances in his maroon eyes. He wonders if this is how Hannibal feels when he's looking at a piece of his beloved art. 

"Will?" Jack's voice cuts his reverie on Hannibal's cheekbones. 

"Hmm?" Will tears his gaze away from Hannibal, who gazes smugly at him. 

"Do you agree?" Jack sounds exasperated. 

"Oh - yes, definitely," Will lies awkwardly, his voice dripping with uncertainty. He hasn't the faintest idea what he's agreeing with or what is going on at all. 

"Well then," Jack says. "I'll have the case notes updated. If you'll excuse me."

Jack walks up to a local police officer and starts asking some questions, scrawling on a little notepad. 

"What did I just agree to?" Will grins. 

"A few standard observations that you would wholeheartedly agree with," Hannibal replies. 

"Oh good," Will says. He could have just agreed to be dropped out of a plane over Antarctica for all he knew. He and Hannibal walk together towards the forensic team. "I'll see you later?" 

It's a question, not a standard 'goodbye' statement. 

"I have appointments until seven," Hannibal says softly. "Shall we say eight?" 

Will nods in response. 

"Sure, I have a lecture at four anyway that'll last at least an hour," he says, as Hannibal answers Jack's beckoning call. Will sighs and turns his attention back to the forensics team. 

"Will!" Zeller calls. "Come take a look when you've got a sec." 

Will opens his mouth to reply but is distracted by another team member roughly passing him a stack of papers. He looks back over his shoulder to see Hannibal getting into his car. 

He can't stop himself from grinning at Beverley's whispered mock-chiding. 

"Graham, stop fantasising and get back to work." 

** 

Will scowls, tapping out a text message to Hannibal as he sits in a crowded, overheated boardroom at the FBI. It's short notice, so Jack's been lumbered with a room usually reserved for dull paperwork-driven meetings, not crime scene work, but beggars can't be choosers. 

Jack paces at one end of the room, his stained tie hanging loosely around his neck and what is probably his fifteenth cup of coffee in one hand an an open file that he's reading in the other. 

Will blinks in surprise when Hannibal himself enters, taking off his thick coat. 

"I'm not too late, I hope," Hannibal says to Jack, his coat now draped gracefully over one arm. 

"We're starting in a minute," Jack says. "Thank you for coming. Take a seat." 

Hannibal lowers himself into the only remaining chair, opposite Will. 

Will suppresses a sigh. Why was his boyfriend always appearing in his meetings? Why? 

"Okay, folks," Jack looks up from his case notes. "I know it's late, so let's get started."

The meeting drags on. Will quickly says all that he really can say, the killer not being particularly creative. The rest of the time is spent on banal details that would be much better discussed in the morning, when they could be solved with phone calls to various surveillance camera companies. 

Will feels his eyelids drooping when he is startled by the toe of a familiar shoe nudging his ankle, tugging lightly on the hem of his pant leg. 

Will shoots Hannibal an alarmed look - 'What are you doing?! Not here!'

*

Hannibal's expression does not change, his attention fixed on Jack, as he runs his foot up Will's calf muscle. He feels a thrill of satisfaction as he spots Will's breathing falter as he grazes the back of his knee. 

Will's face flushes as Hannibal runs his toe up Will's inner thigh. Will grips a pen with unnecessary force, his eyes fluttering closed. 

With a quick scan of the room, Hannibal vaguely wonders why nobody seems to have noticed Will falling apart in his chair. 

Hannibal is silently crowing when he elicits a small gasp from Will when he presses his shoe sole to the younger man's crotch. Will's mouth stays slightly open in desperation as Hannibal massages his foot against Will slowly, but not overly gently. Will's knuckles turn white where he grips his pen which seems to be threatening to snap in half; he holds the table tightly with his other hand. Will closes his eyes with more force, fighting to keep his face from contorting further. 

The meeting carries on, utterly oblivious. 

Until Jack notices Will: the sheen his forehead has taken and the redness in his face. 

"Will, are you all right?" Jack asks in concern. 

"Fi-ne," Will's voice cracks. "I'm fine, thank you. Just - just warm." 

Hannibal's eyes flash in triumph. Will shoots Hannibal a meaningful look that says 'I swear to God, Lecter, you're going to pay for this.' 

Hannibal stares back innocently, even with a dash of feigned concern to mirror Jack's questioning glances. Will swallows shakily. Hannibal smugly remembers Will's outrage at him pressing the back of his chair in a meeting a while ago, and now here Will was almost getting off in similar circumstances. 

Hannibal only stops his massaging when it's clear that the meeting is being summarised - he doesn't think that Will would be comfortable standing when he is fully aroused. 

At the end of the meeting, Will pulls on his coat sitting down, avoiding showing his crotch. Hannibal can't suppress a smirk of pride. 

"I'll drop you home, Will," Hannibal says politely. 

"Thank you, Doctor Lecter,"'Will responds courteously. "I appreciate it." 

"My pleasure, Will." 

"I just have to fetch some things from my office, first." 

** 

"Oh my god, Hannibal," Will hisses when they are alone in his office. "What the hell are you playing at?"

Will savagely snatches up files and notes from around the disorganised room. Hannibal watches him, amused. 

"I don't -" 

Will glares at him, cutting him off. Will slams the papers down on the flimsy desk and looks Hannibal in the eyes with ferocity. Will feels a flash of victory when Hannibal swallows. He likes Will like this. 

"Don't play games, Doctor Lecter," Will growls. "We're adults - too old for games and -" 

'And' what exactly, Hannibal never discovers. He presses his lips to Will's more than willing ones. The kiss quickly becomes passionate: Will slides his hands to the back of Hannibal's neck, in his hair, as Hannibal strokes Will's back and puts a hand on his hip to pull him closer. 

Will is too absorbed to notice the door to his office opening. 

"Will, Jack said -" 

Jimmy Price trails off when he steps briskly into Will's office, quickly halting.

Will breaks away from Hannibal as though scalded, his face an alarming shade of crimson. Hannibal folds his hands behind his back calmly. 

"Jack - said that - you were, um, in here," Jimmy repeats lamely. His eyes are as round as saucers as he tries not to stare at Will and Hannibal. Jimmy swallows nervously. "I thought that you'd, erm, be better off taking this updated file. They've just printed." 

Jimmy awkwardly hands Will the file, who takes it without moving his gaze from a patch of carpet. 

"Th-thanks, Jimmy," Will stammers. He is now a fetching shade of beetroot. 

"I'll - uh - see you tomorrow," Jimmy fakes a chirpy tone, risking a glance between Will and Hannibal. 

"Yeah - bye," Will chokes out, still staring at the ground. He sees Hannibal roll his eyes a little in his peripheral vision.

After the door clicks shut behind Jimmy, Will throws the freshly printed file on the stack and buries his face in his hands. 

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Hannibal sighs dryly, raising his eyebrows at Will's look of total mortification. 

Will groans, sinking to the floor with panic welling in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, Graham Cracker. 
> 
>  
> 
> What am I even doing in life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Will feels the need to man up, and immediately regrets it. As you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is less cracky. I hope you still like it though. I had to set things up for the rest of the story, as the last chapter is probably the last.  
> Thank you so much to everyone who's read all these weird chapters. This was the first fic I've felt comfortable writing.. I love you all!  
> Also thank to a couple of people on tumblr who shared this. I don't know how to link you're profiles here, but you're awesome. 
> 
> (Let me know if you spot typos because I proofread and proofread and proofread and still miss loads.

It is unseasonably cool for an April morning. It's the kind of morning not to dawdle in the car, with the cold seeping in and fogging up the glass. 

On this particular morning, however, Jimmy Price stays in the driver’s seat after he switches off the engine. He rubs his hands together and hunches his shoulders to retreat into his scarf, the cold nipping at his face. He doesn't quite know what to do this morning. 

On impulse, Jimmy gets out of the car and enters the building. He pauses outside Jack's office, but shakes his head and carries on. Instinct tells him that that is not the right thing to do. 

Jimmy is shocked when he finds Bev chatting to Will in the lab. Will flushes and looks down when Jimmy comes in. 

"Will," Jimmy says in surprise, his voice unnaturally light. "I didn't think you'd be here yet." 

"Oh, I had, uh, to finish writing up some notes for a lecture," Will gulps. "It was too late last night." 

"Yeah," Jimmy says weakly, not knowing what else to say. He flounders and looks around the room to avoid looking at Will. He feels discomfort radiating off of them both.

Bev's eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

"If you'll excuse me," Will mutters, his eyes flitting up skittishly. He flees from the room to retreat to his office. 

"What's up, Jim?" Bev asks, with a sideways glance at Jimmy. He's acting very strange today. 

Jimmy takes a deep breath and looks at her. 

"Last night," he begins slowly. "I finished printing out the updated case files, and I knew that Graham was taking paperwork home. I thought that he'd want the updated file, and Jack told me that he had gone back to his office before going home. I opened the door - I didn't knock first..." 

Jimmy swallows as he trails off. Bev closes her eyes, pressing her lips into a line as she exhales. She knows what's coming next. 

"Will was - he was, well - making out - with Dr Lecter," Jimmy finishes helplessly, finally looking at Bev's reaction. She seems nonplussed. Jimmy feels a pang of disappointment. 

There is a sound of a messenger bag thumping to the floor. 

"No freaking way," Brian is stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open and eyes looking as though they are about to pop out of his head. 

Bev rolls her eyes at him, and turns back to Jimmy. 

"I know," she says flatly. 

"You KNOW?" Brian splutters, striding over to them, his eyes popping comically. 

Bev runs a hand through her hair uncomfortably. 

"Yes," she snaps. "I know. And unfortunately, so do you, now. Quite frankly, it's none of our business." 

"Does Jack know?" Brian's eyes are still wide. "I think it's his business-" 

"Shut up, Brian," Bev sighs. "Don't be a dick and just don't get involved." 

**

Will's feels nervous in Jack's office. Not only was he late, but theres a weird atmosphere. He sits in the chair on the far right, next to Bev who is pretending to be absorbed in her notes. Jimmy stares resolutely ahead of him. Brian leans back cheerfully in his chair and subtly cranes his neck to get a better look at Will. 

"So, it guess that's all," Jack says, flicking the file shut. 

The four rise and leave the office, leaving Jack alone. They walk towards the lab where Bev grabs Will's arm gently but firmly and steers him inside. 

"I can't believe you're doing your therapist," Brian grins. 

Will feels his cheeks and neck burning, his face on fire.

"He's not my therapist." 

"Since when?" 

"Since ages ago," Will snaps, clenching his jaw. 

* 

Hannibal smiled at Bedelia as she announced that his hour was up. 

"I have one last thing," Hannibal said smoothly. 

"Go on," Bedelia said as she tucked a glossy lock of blonde hair behind her ear. 

"I have a patient of mine that requires a transfer." 

"Who?" 

"Will Graham." 

Bedelia's eyes narrowed almost undetectably. 

"Why does Will need a transfer, Hannibal?" she asked slowly. 

"We are no longer a suitable match as Doctor and patient," Hannibal said, his voice steady and detached. 

"You seem very fond of him," she added lightly. "I don't feel that I need to explain to you how thin the ice you're on is." 

"I assure you, Bedelia, I am safely on the ground." 

"A relationship in which there is a sexual attraction to a patient always means ice." 

"Will Graham would not be my patient," Hannibal said, his eyes steely. 

"True," Bedelia tilted her head to the side and clicks her tongue. "You wouldn't necessarily lose your licence. But you have your reputation to think of."

She looks at him and says in a subtly pleading voice:

"Be careful, Hannibal." 

*  
"Still," Brian says. "You technically screwed him when he was your actual therapist." 

"Once," Will concedes sheepishly. He wills the ground to open up and swallow him. It would be so much easier. 

"Jack is gonna lost his shit," Jimmy frowns anxiously, clicking his tongue. 

"I'm fine," Will grits out at Bev's hmph of concern, looking more confident that he feels. "I'm an adult, I can look after myself-" 

"Good luck with that," Brian snorts, picturing Jack's face with a twisted kind of glee. 

"Will," Bev says, with a sharp look at Brian who stares back defiantly. "You're on dangerous territory here. Jack needs to know sooner rather than later if this is serious. You know that, right?" 

** 

The science team had a point. He and Hannibal weren't teenagers sneaking around behind their parents’ backs. They were adults. They were in a serious relationship. 

Will needed to start acting like it. 

Will didn't think that Jack, however, was the first person that he should see. 

He doesn't feel quite so confident when he’s sat in Alana's office, who looks as white as a sheet opposite him. Will assumes that she's not taking it well. 

"Will-" Alana stutters. "Wh-when-" 

She swallows hard. 

"When did this start?" she asks in a strangled voice, fighting to keep a glossy professional composure. 

"February," Will replies. He doesn’t trust his nerve to elaborate. 

"It's so unethic-" Alana begins disapprovingly. 

"All right," Will snaps, wincing at the venom in his own words. He quickly softens his tone. "All right. He's not even my psychiatrist anymore-" 

"Was he?" Alana interrupts sharply. Will is taken aback by the razor sharp glint in her eye. 

"No," Will says, and immediately regrets lying. "I transferred." 

A half lie. 

Will prays that he can get away with that. 

"I can't believe he'd take advantage-" Alana hisses. Her hand twitches towards the phone. 

"He didn't," Will snaps. "He didn't come on to me." 

Alana looks as though he's just slapped her in the face. 

"So he responded to your advances?" she asks, her veneer close to cracking. Her voice is fraught with tension and Will can practically see the fury crackling in her hair. 

"Yeah," Will hangs his head. "It was all me." 

Alana is silent for a moment, perhaps weighing up how truthful he is being. 

"A psychiatrist should never become involved with a patient, even if they are the one who wants the relationship," Alana says hollowly, pressing the emotion out of her voice. She continues more gently, leaning slightly towards Will. "I should really report him, Will. It’s in the code of ethics - " 

Will's eyes widen desperately. 

"No, don't," he begs, almost springing forward. "Please - " 

"It's not right, Will," Alana sighs painfully. "But-"

She pinches the bridge of her nose with one hand. 

"Will, you need to either break it off or tell Jack," Alana says bluntly. "The longer you keep it a secret, the worse the outcome could be for you. For Hannibal." 

Will nods once, his eyes fixed on the fluffy rug. He breathes in shakily.

"I have to go," Will says. "I have lecture prep. I'll see you later, Alana." 

She opens her mouth to speak, but thinks better of it. She sighs sadly. 

"Goodbye, Will." 

After he leaves, she holds her head in her hands. She doesn’t know what to do. She loves Will, but not really in that way, she thinks. So should she let him try to be happy in a relationship with her former mentor and his former therapist? That was every shade of ‘wrong’. 

Alana stares blankly out of the window for what feels like a very long time, watching the dusk fall. 

 

** 

Will drives to Hannibal’s quickly after telling Alana. He feels sure that she is undecided. He pictures her going to Jack, and his stomach drops to the floor. 

Hannibal opens the door before Will even knocks. 

“Good evening, Will,” he says. “I saw your car – Are you all right?” 

Will leans against the wall of Hannibal’s decadent hallway. 

“I told Alana,” he all but whispers. 

Hannibal pauses, then closes the front door and faces Will. 

“You felt that you wanted to tell her, or that you had no choice?” Hannibal asks, with the cool glaze of a therapist that makes Will cringe. It reminds him of quite how unbalanced their relationship is. 

“Yes,” Will shrugs. Truthfully, he doesn’t know. 

The corner of Hannibal’s lips twitch in a sort of spasm. Will wrings his hands, breathing shakily with an unfalteringly anxious expression. He roughly pushes a hand through his tousled hair, looking at the ceiling. Hannibal looks at him almost pityingly.

“Go in and sit down, Will.” 

Will turns to him as though startled, his eyes clouded with worry. On autopilot, Will obeys. Hannibal’s living room is warm, the only light coming from the fire as the sky outside darkens. Will feels immediately calmer sitting on Hannibal’s silky, luxurious couch. The man himself sits down next to him. 

“You are wondering if you have made a mistake in telling her,” Hannibal states. 

“Sort of,” Will sighs. “She wanted to know if you were still my doctor when, well, you know.” 

“I do. What did you say?” 

“I said no.” 

Hannibal nods. 

“I believe that we can be forgiven a small lie, providing that Jack remains unaware.” 

“Zeller knows too,” Will suddenly remembers. His voice becomes higher and garbled, charged with panic. “About us. And when we – became involved. I panicked when I answered. I told him it was only once –“

“Do you think that Mr Zeller or any other of you friends in forensics would tell Jack?” 

“I…guess not,” Will frowns. He smiles wanly. “They aren’t tattle-tales.” 

“And this is not kindergarten,” Hannibal smiles back, putting his arms around a trembling Will. “I trust that adults respect the private lives of their friends.” 

“Acquaintances,” Will mumbles, leaning into Hannibal’s embrace. 

“They think of themselves as your friends,” Hannibal murmurs into the cloud of dark curls resting beneath his chin. 

Will pulls away slightly, looking up at Hannibal with clear eyes that look simultaneously younger and wiser. A weight pressing on his shoulders had been loosened. He tilts his face up and softly brushes his lips against Hannibal’s. Hannibal closes his eyes and leans into Will, whose hands were now knotting in the back of Hannibal’s collar. Will nudges his shoes off, and climbs onto the couch. 

** 

“You awake?” 

“Mm,” Hannibal replies, tightening his grip on Will who snuggles closer obligingly. 

They are tangled together on the couch, shirts and belts and clothes carelessly cast aside, littering Hannibal’s pristine floor. It's late, Will notes, from the chime of the grandfather clock. The room is getting dark now. All that remains of the fire is the smouldering embers, and he may have been cold if he was not nestled comfortably between Hannibal and the back of the couch. 

Will trailed a hand up the back of Hannibal’s neck to rest in his hair as he craned his neck to kiss his jaw. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah think I gave myself diabetes at the end there.
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO: the 13 hour devour! Did you do it??   
> I got up at 6AM on Sunday and it's now 5PM Monday and I've have like 1hour 45 sleep. The joys of being a British/Basically anywhere this side of the world fannibal.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal get it on. Sort of. They would've, if they hadn't been interrupted. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess this is it. This was so much fun! I attempted smut again. Forgive me.
> 
>  
> 
> (Not beta read so if you spot any errors please tell me and I'll edit!)

Will bites his bottom lip hard - he can't make a sound, he knows that. Not when only a thin door would separate the noise from the FBI corridor on the other side. 

Will should've seen it coming. He knew that he was acting like a hormonal teenager, in Jack's office, of all places; Jack had just left to go to another meeting, leaving Will looking up through his lashes at Hannibal. Eye sex. Will felt a thrill of satisfaction as Hannibal inhaled unsteadily. 

On the route back to Will's office, Hannibal had grasped Will's arm and pulled him into a storage closet full of printing paper and toner. He pushed Will against the wall as he sank to his knees. 

Now, Will digs his heels in the floor and his shoulders into the wall as he pushes his hips forward. Hannibal grips his belt loops to keep him still. Will arches his back, banging his head once against the wall softly. 

Hannibal doesn't let up when they hear voices on the other side of the door - quite the opposite, in fact, when Crawford's voice rings loud and clear from the corridor. Will's face twists, he claws at smooth wall in desperation, he mouth open in silent pleasure. 

He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that Hannibal is smiling up at him.

** 

"Will." 

Will turns to the door as his students file out clutching their freshly made notes, their lecture just over. Jack is striding purposefully towards him. 

He feels a heavy weight form inside his chest. 

"Will, I need you in the field," Jack says. 

"But - I've got to sort this -" Will begins. He has a tower of papers to grade tonight. Not to mention his dinner plans at an actual restaurant. 

"There's no time to lose," Jack interrupts, morbid excitement in his voice. "The scene's not far away, and relatively fresh - the killer could still be nearby." 

Will, knowing that he doesn't really have a choice, nods. As Jack leaves, Will glances at the clock. Hannibal would still be with patients. Will texts him instead, knowing that Hannibal hated to message but there really wasn't any other way. 

Jack yells from the corridor: 

"Graham, come on!" 

**

It's late. Will is alone in the lecture hall, sat in a chair facing the screen. He is avoiding going back to his office on the chance that Jack will corner him to go over evidence again. He'd done enough of that in the past 36 hours. Besides, Will's finally grading his students papers briskly in a deep red pen, admittedly whilst multi-tasking as he checks his slideshow for the next lecture. Every so often he looks up, checking that the presentation is working. 

The sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor sets Will's teeth on edge. He doesn't look up from the stack of papers on his lap as the footsteps stop to his right. 

"I'm busy," he mutters, ticking a sentence ferociously. 

"I haven't asked you anything, yet." 

Will looks up, surprised to see Hannibal stood at the doorway. 

"I thought you were Jack," he says, looking back to his papers. 

Hannibal watches him for a moment. 

"You look tired, Will." 

"I'm fine," Will rubs his eyes under his glasses, his face tense. 

Hannibal frowns and moves to stand beside his chair. He takes Will's papers from him, placing them on another chair as he sits down. Will frowns and picks them back up. Hannibal's lips quirk. Stubborn boy. 

Hannibal stands up again and tugs the papers out of Will's grasp and casts them aside, leaving a thin red line in the margin of one from Will's poised pen. Will opens his mouth to protest as Hannibal takes the pen from him and, replacing its lid, puts in it his jacket pocket. 

"Hannibal, what are you-" 

Will yelps as Hannibal's arm wrap around his waist and lift him out of the chair, practically horizontal in Hannibal's arms. Will can't help laughing. 

"Put me - down," he laughs, making a feeble attempt to escape the other man's hold as strong arms hug his waist and hips. 

Hannibal does put Will down, on his desk, his legs swinging over the side of the narrower edge. 

"Relax, Will," he soothes, then nods to a bag that Will hadn't noticed before. "I had brought us dinner, but -" 

Will grabs the lapels of Hannibal's jacket with a playful grin and pulls him down for a kiss. Will rests his hand in the now familiar position in Hannibal's hair, the other at his jaw. 

Hannibal moves his lips to match Will's increasingly hungry pace. Gently, as Will's breathing becomes shallower and uneven, he pushes Will backwards and climbs onto the desk on his knees. Will's kisses reach fever pitch and he pulls Hannibal down until he is practically on top of him, Hannibal holding himself up by his hands and knees. Will wraps his legs around him, tightening them until he finds Hannibal's pressure point on the back of his thigh. Will smiles into the kiss as a gasp of pleasure escapes the other man. 

In retaliation, Hannibal slowly and deliberately moves the top of his leg against Will's crotch, making him buck up beneath him. 

Will pushes his tongue deep into Hannibal's mouth, his harsh, needy moans stifled by the back of Hannibal's throat. Hannibal pulls away to kiss along Will's jaw, making Will's breath come in ragged gasps. Will moans as Hannibal kisses his neck, nuzzling his ear. Will pulls his legs towards himself forcefully, making Hannibal fall on top of him with a suppressed gasp. Will pins them together, his legs wrapped around Hannibal's, and his heels pressed into the desk. 

Hannibal's composure is slipping, Will notes with pride. The man's face is twisted in pleasure as he's pressed against Will. 

Will grips Hannibal's face between his hands as kisses him roughly, sliding his hands down Hannibal's shirt, to his belt buckles as - 

"What the FUCK is going on?" 

If Hannibal's marble stillness wasn't pinning him to the desk, Will would probably would have rolled off in shock. As it was, he found himself staring into the dark eyes of Jack Crawford which were currently bulging in shock, clutching a coffee cup with enough force that it looked in danger of shattering standing in the doorway, his face a bizarre point between being slack and utterly furious. 

Impulsively, Will lets go of Hannibal and holds up his palms. He presses himself into the desk in a subconscious effort to create as much distance between them as possible. 

Hannibal slowly and fluidly slides off Will and stands, doing up the top buttons of his shirt and smoothing his clothes. With shaking legs, Will stands from the desk, stumbling a little. 

"I think we need to have a little talk," Jack says, his voice low and dangerous. "And I think that you'd better come along, too, *Doctor* Lecter."

* 

As he follows Jack down the corridor to his office, Will feels and hears the roar of his pulse in his ears. 

Through the glass wall of the lab, Bev frowns in confusion as she sees Will trailing Jack, his jaw tense and eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. 

Then, she spots Hannibal following at a leisurely pace behind them, his suit slightly wrinkled and his gelled hair tousled where a Will had buried his hands in it. 

Her eyes widen in comprehension and she sends Will an desperate, overwhelmingly sympathetic look that says 'Please, God, no. Oh, Will.' 

As Jack holds the door open for him to enter the office, Will swears that he sees Zeller craning around the corner, a stack of paperwork in hand. 

Jack makes no attempt not to slam the door. His veneer of calm cracks, and his anger begins to bubble over. 

"Will," Jack growls, the whites of his eyes flashing. "Care to explain what's going on?" 

Will doesn't know what to do, he sends a quick pleading glance to Hannibal who stares steadily forward. 

Will opens his mouth but somehow no sound comes out. 

"Jack, allow me to -"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, LECTER," Jack roars. "I SENT WILL TO YOU FOR TREATMENT - " 

"And I treated him-" Hannibal begins, only to be cut off again. 

"You call ending up on a desk in a - shall we say - compromising position - in MY building, treatment?" Jack hisses. 

"Will is no longer my patient," Hannibal says, his voice sweet and steady. 

Jack looks aghast at Will. 

"Since when?" he demands. 

"Um- s-i-" Will stammers. 

"SINCE WHEN, WILL." 

"February," Will blurts out. He's never seen Jack look so angry at anyone who wasn't clutching a reporters notebook. 

Jack looks steadily between Will and Hannibal.

"How many times has this happened before?" he asks, the quiet of his voice feeling more deadly than his shouting. 

"I don't know," Will admits helplessly. 

"Oh, you don't want to say?" Jack says. He raises his eyebrows. "Or can't you remember?" 

The crimson flush of Will's face is all the answer that Jack needs. He huffs and turns away from them, trying to calm down. 

Will feels an unfamiliar pang of defiance. He glares at Jack. 

"I don't see the problem," Will says. 

"What?!" Jack splutters incredulously. "Are you being serious?" 

"Yes," Will shrugs, seeing Hannibal turn to him out of the corner of his eye. "I fail to see how our private lives are any of your business-" 

"My business," Jack hisses. "Is that my best profiler is sleeping with the best psychiatrist we have. I KNEW something was up-" 

"And you thought it was Katz," Will says drily. "I remember." 

"This is so unethical-" Jack sighs exasperatedly. 

"He's not my doctor. He was, not even officially, if you remember, but not anymore."

"Dr Lecter," Jack says in a carefully controlled voice. "What did you do about Will's treatment since February?" 

"I referred him to an excellent colleague of mine when I felt that it was possible that personal feelings were interfering with his treatment," Hannibal replies. 

Technically true, but only after a session in which Will had thrown himself at Hannibal and they had wound up staggering upstairs to his bedroom. 

"I need some time," Jack says. He looks pointedly at Hannibal. "Will, Dr Lecter, please step outside." 

As they turn for the door, Will takes Hannibal's hand and laces their fingers tightly together. 

In the corridor outside, the atmosphere is tense. Will feels his discomfort ebbing away. He figures that he must just be exhausted. 

"I'm sorry," Will murmurs softly to Hannibal. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Will." 

"I threw myself at you -" 

"And was impossible to resist," Hannibal smiles wickedly at him. He sighs. "It is I who should be sorry. A doctor should never respond to his patient's advances." 

"I'm glad you did," Will gives him an embarrassed smile. 

"As am I." 

"I love you," Will says, brushing his lips against Hannibal's before he can reply. 

"Not now, Will," Hannibal murmurs softly. "It will only make it worse for you -" 

"I don't care about me, I care about you -!" 

"I'm afraid that I do not." 

Will presses his lips more firmly against Hannibal's in a chaste kiss. 

A young forensics intern almost walked into a door in shock at seeing Will Graham kissing the psychiatrist in a corridor, waiting outside Jack's office as though he were the principal. 

They are standing in silence when Jack opens the door again. 

"Will," Jack says. "Come in." 

Will enters, leaving Hannibal standing alone in the corridor. Jack nods to a chair and Will sits, as Jack sits on the opposite side of the desk. 

"I'm going to be honest, Will, I'm shocked," Jack says. "I don't know how to proceed. I didn't even know that you were..." 

"Gay?" Will finishes, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Jack flushes awkwardly. "I don't really think that who I sleep with is any of your business." 

"It is when you're sleeping with the psychiatrist I sent you to," Jack retorts. 

"-and the psychiatrist who referred me elsewhere when it became clear that I wanted it to be more than a doctor-patient relationship," Will snaps. 

"So, it was you?" Jack asks. He is far out of his comfort zone. 

"Me? Yes, I threw myself at him," Will says, before adding quickly: "after I started seeing Dr Du Maurier." 

"How is he?" 

"She's great," Will says, making Jack flush again. 

Jack feels incredibly uncomfortable at how close minded he appeared to be. He sighs and rests his knuckles against his temples, his elbows on the desk. 

"Doctor Lecter could get into a lot of trouble, Will." 

"If someone reports him," Will states. "Which they shouldn't, as he hasn't taken advantage of me." 

Will can't help curling his lip at the word 'advantage'. He's not 'fragile', like Jack thinks he is. He can look after himself. 

Jack purses his lips and looks down at the pen he's been toying with absentmindedly. 

"If it's the fact that I'm working in proximity to Hannibal that bothers you," Will says, inspiration striking. "Then I can fix that." 

Jack frowns at him. 

"I'll quit," Will says softly.

Jack inhales sharply through his nose, gritting his teeth. He resists the urge to snap the damn pen. 

"You know I don't want that, Will." 

"I know." 

Will smiles. The tables have turned, and Jack is desperately scrambling to cling on. 

"Nothing happened when you were his patient?" Jack repeats lamely. He's lost, and he knows it already. 

"No," Will sighs. 

Jack nods. He is wrapped in thought for one torturous minute. 

"I'm not going to report him, Will," Jack says quietly as Will blinks in surprise. "Not if you don't want me to." 

Will shakes his head. 

"All right," Jack says. "But you know how I feel about office romances," he threatens. 

Will did know.

"We don't technically work together, anyway -" 

"I know," Jack sighs, he cringes as he continues. "But..keep it to a minimum at work." 

"Of course," Will agrees. He wouldn't particularly want people watching him make out anyway. He shudders at the thought. 

He opens the door to exit, causing Hannibal to turn around expectantly. He glances past Will, seeming confused when Jack doesn't appear behind Will to call him in. He looks at at Will quizzically. 

"He's fine," Will smiles serenely. "There's no problem." 

Hannibals eyebrows twitch upwards but he doesn't reply, other than with a triumphant smirk at the closed door of Jack's office. 

"Let's go," Will takes his hand again. "Well, I need to get the papers, then we'll go." 

Hannibal squeezes Will's hand firmly as they pass people in the corridor, many evidently surprised and some openly gawp. It didn't seem to have crossed their minds that Will Graham could be in a relationship. 

Will feels himself smile as they pass the forensics office and catches Bev grinning at him. She gives a secret smile and a quick thumbs up. Will gives a minute shake of his head with a single, near-silent laugh. 

He tilts his head to kiss Hannibal on the cheek as they enter the lecture hall. 

"So," he says, leaning towards the taller man for another kiss. "What did you bring for dinner?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it :)  
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
>  
> 
> What am I supposed to do in my spare time now *sigh*

**Author's Note:**

> That was so unsexy oh my god I suck at writing sexiness so sorry..!  
> I'm also going to stop with the smileys because I'm even creeping myself out now  
> Also I made a tumblr :  
> http://highway-to-taco-bell.tumblr.com


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